


a fresh breath of stale air

by wishingwell44



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Crying, F/M, Flashbacks, Friendship, Happy Ending, Hiking, Infinity War spoilers, Kissing, M/M, Mentions of Death, New York City, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Spoilers, semi-vignettes, snippets of life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:14:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,135
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wishingwell44/pseuds/wishingwell44
Summary: They wake up after the turmoil of Thanos.A chronological set of vignettes about life in the hidden world.





	1. arrival

Bucky opened his eyes and took a long deep breath, like he had been holding it in. The cough that followed was violent but quick, and left a slight metallic twang on the back of his tongue. The first the he noticed was the floor underneath him - concrete, not grass nor dirt.

There were soft groans around him, but in pain and anguish, not fear nor anger.

The feeling of confusion was normal; so many times before did Bucky wake up in a different place immediately, with little recollection of what happened before, but Bucky knew. He knew that he drifted away as he felt every little piece of him rip from his body, hearing Steve's footsteps, and seeing his eyes of confusion as he started to float away.  

“Bucky?” That voice. That voice wasn’t Steve's. That voice brought him back to reality.

“Sam?”

He ran up to Bucky, helping him get up from the ground. “Are you okay, man?”

“Well,” Bucky patted down his body. Metal arm, check, other arm, check, two legs, check. “I think I’m all here so all things considering...I think so. Do you know where we are?” Bucky looked around and spotted the woman with the red hands, and T’Challa.

“This is Avengers headquarters,” Wanda said. “We’re home.”

★

They all ended up in the common room. Gear and shoes were discarded at the front door, and water was poured. 

“What I want to know is how we are alive,” Sam interjected to a quiet room. 

“What was the last thing you remember?” T’Challa asked to no one in particular.

“I was laying in the tall grass,” Sam sighed. “Don’t really remember much else,”

“I remember holding Vision; I just...I just wanted him back,” 

“For me, I was with Okoye,”

“I started to feel....different. Like something was moving inside of me. I felt every single part of me rip apart, and I couldn’t do one thing about it,” Bucky paused. “It felt like I wasn’t in control again.”

★

"Where are we exactly?" Bucky asked Sam.

"I have no fucking clue," Sam leaned back in his chair., while drinking a beer. "Like, this," Sam gestured to nothing in particular. "I can feel it, I can taste this," He held up the beer, "But it doesn't feel...real enough. Like it's created specifically for the four of us."

"Like a copy?"

"Sort of...I think. Look this is usually Tony's schtick so I'm only going off what I see. I see glitches, I see...things that a too real. But if it is a copy, that's one hell of a job,"

★

Bucky walked around the compound. There were training grounds, gyms, fully stocked kitchens, but what Bucky could not comprehend was how. This wasn’t Heaven, this wasn’t Hell, this was something else entirely. 

However, when he reached the bedroom area, reality started to fray once again. Bucky stopped in front of the first bedroom; Wanda was sitting on the bed, sweater in hand. It looked too big to be hers, shoulders too square to fit her properly. 

“It was Vision’s. He wore this once. Called it ‘the worst thing for one to wear’,” She laughed as a couple of tears fell down her face. 

“Looks itchy,” Bucky added, still standing just outside of the doorway.

Wanda laughed, wiping a tear away. There was a short moment of silence.

“His room is down the hall to the left. Last door.” 

“Thanks,”

★

The bed was made with military precision, the drawers had a dark wooden stain, and clothes folded on top of each other. Few pictures remained on the desk. Peggy when she was older, Peggy back when Bucky remembered her, and one featuring Bucky. It was a photo from the exhibit back in DC. Him and Steve from 1939. Right before he was drafted - right before his life was twisted and turned. 

Bucky grabbed the photograph out of the frame and closed the door. He sat on the floor, back against the bed. He’d take the time stone. He’d take the time stone and turn back time all the way before he was drafted, take Steve's hand and leave the States for good. Write Rebecca letters of their adventures exploring the Australian outback, sometimes pretending it was the Grand Canyon, like it was the trip they always wanted to take. They’d live in the same apartment, to save money of course, but they would both know that it was more.

His smile that would light up the room, rough hands that would help stabilize him through the rough patches, and hugs that would linger for just the right amount of time. 

It was Steve that would follow him into war, and every time, it was Steve would see him die. 

A tear dropped onto the waxy photo.

It may have been some sort of altered reality, but in truth - it was Hell. 

Bucky put the photograph back in it’s proper place. The room was stocked with the basics. Nothing frivolous, but maybe one tuxedo, that maybe Tony forced him to buy for banquets or whatever the Avengers did on their free time. 

★

Bucky kept waking up to an empty bed. He kept expecting those blue eyes staring right back at him, watching him sleep, but alas he's still here...still away. 

He walked quietly to the kitchen and poured himself a fresh cup of coffee before turning on the news. 

There's more people, than just the four of them. Reporters, doctors, artists...New York City, at least, is still the thriving but just a little quieter. The reporters go through the motions of reporting the latest 'arrivals' as they call it. 

In the back of Bucky's mind he kind of hopes that Steve's name pops up on the list.

The woman with the too ironed suit jacket swivels her chair to the next camera and begins to talk.

"Now for the first of our for part philosophical debate between our resident professors, from NYU we have Professor Jacob Katzen and from Columbia University Professor Diana Walsh. We're here to talk about the topic - Are We Dead?"

The TV was shut off by -

Bucky swiveled his chair around, and gave Sam a glare. "I was watching that,"

"And I was sleeping. Plus I don't think watching media sensationalism is the best thing right now."

"I need something than constant depressed silence," Bucky sighed. 

"Let's do something then. I've never hiked around here before,"

★

Bucky used some of Steve's gym clothes. He could still smell him if ever so faintly even with his enhancements. 

The sun was strong, like in Wakanda, beaming right onto the asphalt, and the heat rising from the ground. The four of them took the long route to the top of the mountain. There were no sounds, no screams, no cries - just the semi-winded breaths from a couple of people around him. 

Bucky looked down from the small cliff, and imagined things he'd imagined hundred of times before even when controlled by Hydra. 

"How are you today, Sargent Barnes?" T'Challa asked. 

"Doing as well as I can be. I guess I need to stop referring to myself as semi-stable though,"

"You are doing far better than most. So I agree. Maybe not semi, but completely stable," They both sad down on the dirt, not caring about their clothes, letting the wind stir the air around them. "Oh, look at that!" T'Challa pointed to the airplane in the sky. "We have pilots here,"

"You must want to go back to Wakanda,"

"I do. I want to see if Nakia has arrived or not,"

"You're not really runnin' off to the races," Bucky pointed out the obvious.

"When you're alive, you feel the energy of others. The happiness or sadness, or other complex emotions we humans may have. When you're in...the other world, like this per say, you see the ones who have transferred over and you're happy to see them, but in reality they are still not alive. As much as I want to see her, Sergent Barnes, I want her to still have those human connections with one another, not just the single fleeting moment of seeing me," The wind blew across their faces again. "Plus, we are on top of a mountain, about 3 hours from the closest airport. I can run fast, but not that fast," 

Bucky chuckled, and got up from the ground to walk back with T'Challa to Sam and Wanda to continue their hike. "Y'know, there's this philosophy debate on Channel 5's local news. You should probably put your name in the hat."

★

It was late. Too late to be still truly considered night. Bucky had read Steve's small collection of books three times over in the time he had arrived. He wanted to start writing, talking to no one that was here. Steve had to have something - by the time they moved in together, Steve moved at least six filled journals of his own, some just for sketching, some just for writing, and he would be the one to carry it over into the 21st century. 

In his nightstand were two leather bound books, one filled with entries. Bucky propped himself up and just started reading. It took him forty minutes to get to the last entry, which caught his attention.

_Bucky,_

_If you’re reading this, then well, that big event happened. We somehow found you, somehow got you to come back. I don’t know if something escalated, my mouth got to me (again), or some alien (yes, you read that right) got in the way and I got right in front of it. My coffin is probably six feet underground, empty of course, because you’re probably wondering what to do with my ashes. Here is what follows:_

_Part of them in Ireland. For my ma. I wanted to visit her hometown. Part of them in Corona Park where I met Dr. Erskine. Part of them at Coney Island, because of you. You won’t let me live down the Cyclone. Might as well be there forever._

_If I don't get to say goodbye, for some strange reason, let this be my last goodbye. I would never be able to tell this to your face. Or maybe I did, but if I didn't, let me tell you now -_

Bucky tore his eyes away from the page. 

Steve did tell him, softly. He doesn't think that Bucky heard him. It was in Wakanda back...in the real world, right after he was defrosted for the last time. He was on the table - he could hear and remember everything, but his eyes were closed. Almost like a coma. He heard the soft whispers of Steve next to him. "Come on, Buck. Just wake up....I love you, please just wake up,"

_Let me tell you now - I love you Bucky. I have always loved you. Until we meet again._

_Steve._

★


	2. trains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky takes a trip to NYC.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights belong to their respective owner. [Marvel and Star Trek]

★

“ _Captain’s Log, Stardate 1513.8: Star maps reveal no indication of habitable planets nearby. Origin and purpose of the cube still unknown. We’ve been here, held motionless, 18 hours,"_ Captain Kirk’s voice, as well as Sam’s  rang through the living room.

"How many times have you seen this episode in your life?” Bucky sat down on the couch, legs stretched out. Sam scooted over to make room. 

“Lost count. Used to watch the original series over and over again as a kid,” Sam smiled. “Did you ever have time to watch?”

“Not really - I mean, I think I saw a few episodes here and there during the sixties, however my memory could be failing me at the moment. Probably in a safe house….so they couldnt catch me breaking any rules,”

“Good thing we’re here then; you can become reacquainted. This is a good episode.”

“Do you have a favorite?”

“Yes, but they’re really all my favorites. The movies with the original cast are good too, plus or minus a couple.”

“Huh,”

“Huh? What do you mean by huh," Sam laughed as he turned his attention back to the TV.

"Didn’t peg you for such a nerd,”

T'Challa walked in to the living, post working out. “Where did you find the original Star Trek episodes?” Sam turned his head. 

“You watched Trek?”

“I think it was one of the few shows that we were allowed to watch as children,” T'Challa explained. 

The three of them sat in comfortable silence watching Kirk and Spock trying to maneuver their way around the ship with quick paces. A few more episodes ended before they all dispersed once again. Bucky continued to hang out on the couch, remote in hand.

“You go ahead, I’m going to watch a few more episodes…it’s not like I have anything really booked.”

“You should get out of the house some more - we don't want you rotting on the couch,” Sam laughed. There was more silence. Sam watched more of the on-screen banter.

“Did Steve ever get to watch Star Trek? In the Avengers tower or something like that?" 

"Ya'know I’m not quite sure. I remember when I first met him in D.C. he had a small black book…like something out of the ‘50s. He had a list of stuff to watch and listen to. Hell if I know if Star Trek was on there, but I have a small feeling that it was,”

Sam started to walk away and heard a faint voice. “Thanks, Sam.”

Bucky melted more into the soft leather couch. Steve would be a good Captain Kirk.

★

Bucky grabbed a canvas backpack out of the back of Steve’s closet. He managed to push the small amount of clothes that Steve hung to the side and start to make the closet (and room) at least partly his own. Although Sam was annoying, he was right. He needed to step out of Westchester. He needed to breath that weird smoggy air that the city produced.

He drove down to White Plains parking his car in the train station’s garage. The ride was smooth, with the semi-plush leather seats, and a outlet to charge his phone making the ride much less annoying. He kind of felt like he was in first class on his way to Japan.

Bucky stood in Grand Central. The building looked unphased by practically decades of decay and damage. Looking up, the constellations were still there, twinkling.

_“Steve…Steve - Jesus Christ, where are you?” Bucky whispered forcefully. He wiped sweat from his forehead before it dripped down his neck. “I swear to God if we get caught we’re going to the station. and your ma is gonna have a fit.” Grand Central was empty, and maybe five minutes from shutting down for the night._

_“Buck! Down over here,” Steve was crouching by the stairs. Bucky cringed to the echoing voice and trotted over._

_“Don’t yell, I’m right here,” Bucky sighed. He knew he heard a cop walking up and down the path._

_“This is why I wanted to come here, at this time. Just look up.”_

_Bucky did as he was told. The roof was breaking down, almost crumbling. Streaks of water damage permeated the painted surface, almost causing it to look like comets flying across._

_Bucky sat down next to Steve and leaned back on the stairs, but he stopped staring at the ceiling as there was another star filling his eyes with wonder and amazement._

The loud squeaking of the echoing breaks made Bucky tense.

He’s always hated trains. 

★

It was still loud - 4.3 million people more or less still essentially lived in the city, just a little less crowded on the 7 train to Queens. Bucky was able to move from level to level on platforms without being noticed or recognized. They didn’t care that a 6 foot man with a metal prosthetic arm  was traversing the subway - they just needed to be able to get on the subway to their next destination.

It was 2:30pm on a weekday, so the train ended up being filled with private school kids. Uniforms disheveled after hours of rules being enforced, blasting music to their liking.

He would go to Brooklyn, but Bucky just wasn’t ready quite yet. 

Bucky needed food,  _real food,_  and the only place he knew of was in Queens. The train stopped in Flushing, and connected to the E train to Forest Hills. He needed food that didn't taste like manufactured rubber, and smelling what was being cooked in Queens helped his cravings. 

Bucky sat down in Yellowstone park on a bench, the sun shining on him, and the ease and simplicity of life just washing over him, with a sandwich that was just waiting for him to be devoured. 

“Hey, can I sit here?” somebody asked, nonchalantly. 

“Sure, whatever kid.” 

“I really like your arm,” the kid said, quietly. At this point, Bucky pretty much didn’t care to have his arm exposed, for all he knew he was dead. The weather in New York was a blaring 95 degrees, and he just didn’t want to wear another leather jacket. 

“I once met this badass dude with a metal arm, too. Maybe the same manufacture? Like it was metal and…” Bucky just tried to drown out the kid’s obsessive talking.

Then it started to click. Bucky knew that voice. 

He knew that voice because it was the only kid that he fought at that airport.

★

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thank you to my wonderful betas for always helping out with editing! The quote from Star Trek is taken from episode 1x02 of the original series.


	3. recognition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky meets Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights belong to their respective owners (Marvel et. al.)

★

Bucky placed his unwrapped sandwich next to him, and just stared at the kid next to him.

“Wait, stop talking,”

“Oh sorry, my rambling about that internship usually does that,”

“I don’t give a fuck about your internship - you said you saw a guy with a metal arm at the airport,”

“Yeah, well it’s kind of a long story, I wasn’t  _really_ like at the airport, mostly just…hanging around…or whatever,”

Bucky dragged his hand across his face. “Yep, I definitely remember you now,”

“Wait, what?”

“Did the guy with the metal arm have a big red star on the shoulder, maybe looked like he had one too many protein shakes?”

The kid was silent, almost like he was calculating and remembering and trying to place the puzzle back together. “Yeah, yeah he did.” The kid still didn’t quite put it together. 

“You’re that guy at the airport in the spandex spider outfit,”

The kid was silent, but red-faced. Embarrassed or scared?

Probably scared.

Definitely scared. 

“I-I didn’t quite recognize you without…you know,”

“The gun?”

“I was going to say the leather get up but yeah the gun fits too,”

Bucky put out his flesh hand to give a handshake. “Well I should probably introduce myself - Bucky Barnes,”

The kid took it, “Peter Parker and wait you mean  _that Bucky Barnes?!_ Oh  _man_  I can’t wait to tell Ned… who’s not..here. Never-mind, this is still awesome.”

Bucky  _felt_  that pain. He was 15 for God’s sake, and now he was here. “Did you arrive alone?” 

“Yeah,”

“Shit,” Bucky picked up his sandwich and unwrapped it. He took a bite and savored it. “I gotta make a call, stay here I’ll be right back,”

★

Sam was running, not fast, but not a jog either. The air in Westchester was smoother and less harsh than what he was used to. The air filtered in the jets were too crisp and felt like he was constantly breathing in air from those December days. The music in his ears blared up until the xylophone beats of his ringtone echoed. He took a quick look at the caller ID before picking it up.

“You need more Star Trek recommendations?” Sam laughed as he slowed down, until he was walking the track.

“ _No, but yes - that’s not the point of this call,”_ Sam could hear an audible sigh on the other side of the line. “ _Back at the airport, during that big fight with everyone, do you remember that guy with the web slinging thing?”_

“Didn’t that stuff come out of his wrists or something?” Sam asked. Bucky in return just gave him a hum of confusin. “Okay, so what about him?”

“ _Well, that guy is really a kid,_ ”

“ _I’m sixteen_!” a voice yelled from the back.

“ _He arrived with everyone else. I don’t think his parents got here either,_ ”

“Well, shit.” Sam stopped in his tracks. “What do you think we should do?”

Bucky was eating his sandwich into the receiver. “ _How many beds do we have at the compound?_ ”

★

Wanda wiped the sweat from her neck. Sparing with T’Challa took her mind off of…everything. She lost her brother before, but got stronger, and she would become even more after this. Thanos was the tree of death, and the only way to stop this would be to uproot him.

She found the Captain’s boxing quarters. and began to move to the beat of the music that was blaring over the speaker system. She felt every indent and ripped hole that the captain had made before - it was used to death but still standing. 

Oddly fitting.

She thew her last punch right after a text came through on her phone.

_Meeting in the living room._

★

"...and who is this?" Wanda said as she walked through the doorway. She came face to face with everyone, plus a stranger with four suitcases.

“I’m Pe-”

“Bucky did you kidnap a  _child?”_ Wanda asked, cutting him off.

“What?! No, wait I think we need to go over this again,” Bucky sighed.

“I’m Peter, I’m sixteen, and I fought with you guys, well not fought but more like fought against you at the airport…” he gave a nervous laugh.

“Were you the big tall guy with the metal helmet?” T’Challa questioned.

“No, the one in the spider suit. You’re the cat guy, right?”

“It’s a panther.” T’Challa mentioned flatly. 

“…and you ended up here,” Wanda finished Peter’s thought.

“I was with Mr. Stark fighting with Star Lord -”

“Who?!” Sam questioned.

“Some guy from Missouri,” Peter answered, “Anyway, we were fighting the big purple guy and then things get kind of blurry. I kind of woke up in my bed in Queens,” The room fell silent. “So If it’s all of you, where is everyone else? Where is everyone that didn’t arrive?” he questioned. 

“We’re not really sure - everyone has been trying to figure that out. We just hope that they’re safe,” T’Challa issued reassurance. 

“I’m glad I’m here though, thanks for taking me in,” Peter said softly.

“We’re a team, kid, no Avenger left behind,”

★

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my wonderful betas as per always.


	4. opposite ends

☆

It’d had felt like forever since he had arrived Wakanda, but it was more because so much had already happened.Those who were left helped rebuild the torn up lands from which the aliens destroyed, and turn it into rivers that led from the top of the mountains to the ends of the lakes. The country was majestic, with everyone giving a hand to create something beautiful.

It was difficult for Steve to walk away, but New York was calling him home.

Before he left, Nakia pulled him aside.“Captain Rogers, thank you for your help…it was truly appreciated,”

“We only did what we could,”

“…and that is more than enough,” she smiled. “I have something for you that you might value,” She held out a small trifold of fabric. “He wore this all the time. I think it was a way to not show his arm to the kids so he wouldn’t scare them off at the farm, but eventually he just kept wearing it, even by the markets. It became a piece of him, so it should rightfully go to you.”

Steve started to object, but stopped himself. “Thank you, Nakia,”

“You are welcome, Captain Rogers,”

☆

On the jet ride home, Steve grasped the fabric for almost the whole day-long flight. When it was his time to rest and for Thor to take over, Natasha saw the fabric unfold from his hand and drop to the floor as Steve drifted off to sleep. She held it up, and put it back to it’s original trifold, and tucked it under Steve’s other hand. She sighed, and got up to sit back down near Thor.

“I like the new ‘do,” she smiled.

“Ah, thank you, Natasha. I wish it were my choice, but this strange old man came up to me right before I was entered in a tournament and the Hulk almost killed me,”

“Bruce almost killed you?!”

“No, the Hulk,” Thor responded calmly. “It’s a long story. Kind of just ends up with everyone dying,”

“Has that become our lives? Everyone dying?”

“No,”

“Why not?” Natasha asked as she shifted in her seat.

“I have a suspicion, that this is not the end.” Thor smiled as he saw the logo to dock the jet.

☆

What was left of the Avengers on Earth, walked into the facility. It had changed…more than a little bit from what Steve remembered. A little bit flashier, a little bit more high tech than he was used too. Before the fight he met Rhody in the basement, where the holographic poloticians muddled about, but he didn’t see the upstairs. 

Steve started walking toward the rooms, before Rhody stopped him. 

“Do you need anything to eat? Do you  _want_  anything? You’re worrying me, Rogers,”

“Right now, I just want to take a shower, but thank you Rhody,”

Steve got to his room, dropped his bag, and immediately placed the trifold on his night stand.

The one thing that crossed Steve’s mind was  _‘til the end of the line_.

☆

Days had passed. 

He ran, he boxed, he ate, he slept.

Sort of.

☆

The room was stilled. The sun had gone down hours ago, but Steve was still up. It was his voice. The fresh fear in Bucky’s voice before he was whisked away that kept him up.

Turning over, Steve flicked the light on. Something felt…off, but Steve couldn’t quite put his finger on it. 

The room hadn’t changed. Even though he had been at the Avengers facility for more than a week, he hadn’t quite  _looked_  at the room. It had been the same since the battle in Sokovia. Not even the minuscule earthquakes had shifted anything, almost like it had been cemented in stone. 

Steve walked around, picking up items left behind. His room was similar to that in Avengers tower, but filled with far less technology. He liked that. It was almost like a vacation home on Martha’s Vineyard, where it was left intentionally tech-less to force you out to enjoy nature. 

Grabbing one of the books left on the shelf, he sat down back against the dresser and began to indulge his insomnia with some fiction.

★

Bucky had a strange twinge of anxiety creeping up his spine, and it wouldn’t go away. For the past week he had been feeling like someone had been following him around building. He thought running outside, exercising, and even sparring with Wanda would whisk away the feeling of fear, but it lingered.

_I don’t believe in ghosts_ , he said to himself.  _Well, I haven’t since I was 10._

Bucky stared up at the wall in his room, dark from the blackout curtains he installed, but also the moonlight was hiding behind the clouds. 

The light needed to be on. Bucky got out of the bed and sat underneath the window, facing the dresser, and just stared. 

He’d wish that Steve was facing him.

☆

Steve looked up from the book and stared at the window.

He’d wish that Bucky was facing him, but deep down in his soul, Steve knew that Bucky wasn’t dead. 

☆


	5. stabilization

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team hypothesizes where they are and Bucky heads back to New York City.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights belong to Marvel.

★

Bucky was dozing off in his room - he managed to get outside before the rain started to downpour.  A simple half marathon checked off his list before he was able to sleep for the rest of the afternoon. In the past weeks, his night time activities included writing letters. He filled up two more books, and would always place them next to Steve’s old ones. 

The papers were crumpled, but it was the most personal thing that Bucky wrote in decades. The pillow caught his head, and allwoed him to sink deeper into the blissfulness that was sleep -

\- up until the PA system in the room went off with Peter’s voice echoing through. Bucky almost fell off of his bed in fright. 

“ ** _Hey everyone, uh, I found Tony’s lab_** ,”

_“Jesus”_ was all that Bucky could mutter.

★

They all crowded around the tables in the basement. 

“Did you just find this place?” Wanda asked.

“No, I found it the day I moved in,” 

“That was three weeks ago,” Sam mentioned.

Peter laughed nerviously. “You didn’t know it was here?” There was silence. “Wait, you didn’t actually know it was here. What have you been doing? There has to be a way to get back,”

“Honestly, relaxing. Enjoying the solitude,” T’Challa answered.

“Binge watching television,” Bucky muttered.

“I do that on a daily basis,” Peter mentioned.

“I’ve kind of not been around that much to  _relax_  or  _watch t_ v _._ This is kind of like a weird death vacation,”

Peter rolled his chair from one desk to another, grabbed some files, charts, a large sheet of paper, and a couple of pens. “Okay,” he layed out the large piece of paper, “This is what I’ve been doing, since I haven’t had any real homework. What if we’re not dead?” 

“Oh god you watched that four part docu-series on the news too?” Sam asked.

“Yeah…did you? It was really good,” Peter exclaimed.

“See, I could have watched it, but we  _had_  to go hiking,” Bucky complained.

“You were literally sulking on the couch for like three days before you were watching that series. It was time,” Sam explained.

“ _Anyway,”_  Wanda tried to separate the two.  

“Anyway,” Peter started to draw two circles one large, and one circle on the edge, like an inward bubble. “We have the real world here, but what if we are here,” he pointed to the small bubble near the edge.

“ _What_  is here, though,” T’Challa asked.

“Do you know this dude Alan Guth?” Peter only got blank stares. “He said that there might be these things called pocket universes - or Lehners who also stated that these universes might be like little balloons, or whatever, that kind of exist on their own with their own atmosphere.”

Silence.

“It rained today. Bucky, when I met you it was literally so hot I could fry an egg at the park. We’re not dead, That big purple dude just….moved us to a pocket universe,”

More silence.

“Did I say something wrong?

“Honestly, I couldn’t argue otherwise,” Sam quipped.

Wanda sat down, thinking, yet remembering more of what her last memories were before arriving. “He had a glove of stones. The green one he was able to turn back time, and Vision’s was able to make himself come alive…there were a few others on his glove…what if those stones transported us to this pocket universe?”

★

Bucky had started going to the city more often. It was his place of refuge, to be hidden in a hidden world. He stepped off of the subway, umbrella in hand. It had been raining for the past week off and on, and as much as the rain was a much needed relief for the humidity, the sporadic nature was something definitely not to his liking.

Every time he stepped off of the train in New York from his time as the Winter Solider, Brooklyn kept changing drastically, from what his memory recovered. He remembered most of it from photos and old clips of describing  _The History of Brooklyn_ , but other than that the memories were vague. Thanks to the obsessive nature of Steve, he found the address of their old apartment from one of the battered notebooks tucked away in his closet.

The apartment was adorned with plaques stating historical significance to the small one bedroom.

_Steve Rogers, America’s Captain_ ,  _lived here from 1938 until his untimely death. This place is of historical significance, and is recognized by the City of New York to be protected under law. This apartment is part of the New York Tenement Museum, and if one would like to enter, please go to the front desk to talk to a tour guide, and they would gladly guide you through Steve Roger’s life before Captain America._

He walked to the front of the building, but the door was locked and nobody was there. 

Walking back, Bucky pulled out a couple of thin tools and easily picked the lock, just like he did all those years ago, quietly thanking those who “preserved history”.

The door opened with the eerily similar creak it gave all those years ago. The floor boards had been replaced, and some electronic devices installed to keep up with fire safety issues, but at least from what he remembered, it was the same. 

It was the same kitchen where he made Steve the chicken soup when he was sick for the thousandth time. It was the same table where he would play chess in between his shifts. 

It was the same bedroom where Steve and him shared their most intimate moments. 

Maybe one day, he could share those moments again.

★


	6. fluctuation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve, Thor, and Natasha visit the city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All rights belong to their respective owners.

“ _We have to go back!”_ Jack Sheppard, plastered across the TV screen. They were all wiping tears away from their eyes, as the music started to play for the end of the episode.

“How many seasons of this show are there?”

“Ten total, seven to go,”

“Good,” Peter said and settled into the couch before he hit the play button on the remote. 

☆

_We have to go back!_

Steve was reading on the couch in the living room, when he heard the phrase.

“Hey, Nat?” he called to her in the kitchen.

“What’s up?”

“Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Natasha chuckled. “You playing tricks on me Rogers?”

“I wish,” Steve rubbed his face. “I swear I’m not going crazy. Does the phrase ’We have to go back’- does that phrase mean anything to you?”

Natasha sat down on the barstool to think, sipping her mid-afternoon coffee. “I mean, the only thing I can think of is from this show  _Lost._ It was the big reveal or something,” She took another sip. “ Do we need to take you to the doctor? You’re worrying me, Steve.”

“I’m worrying myself.”

Thor came into the room sweating from the outisde sun. “Steven, what troubles you?”

“Sometimes, I don’t even know.”

“Why don’t we get out, enjoy the fresh air! Maybe not let the couch become one with you. You know there’s this one creature on Niðavellir - more of a rock type creature - as if you sit on the rock for too long, they may engulf you and become one. I’ve heard stories as a kid of a creature that merged with maybe 80 others,”

“I think he’s talking about depression, Steve,” Natasha stated.

“If Thor is telling me, then maybe it’s time to get out of the house.”

“Wonderful! I think there’s this one Midgardian phrase ‘Go big or go home’. How about we traverse to New York City.”

☆

“New York! We are here,” Thor mentioned as Natasha parked the car.

“It only took us,” Natasha checked her watch, “two hours to get here. Couldn’t you’ve done your rainbow magic transport thing?”

“Oh, with Hemidall?” 

“Sure.”

“He is dead - physically dead.”

“Oh.” Silence overtook the car.

“Well, we are not having an  _erfi_ \- Steven - where would you like to go?” Thor asked excitedly. 

“Where did you used to go out - for fun? Who was the  _real_  Steve Rogers like before Captain America?” Natasha couldn’t get through the sentence without laughing. 

“We’re playing this game, aren’t we?” Steve asked.

“Absolutely.”

☆

The bar was boarded up with big  _DO NOT ENTER_  signs plastered all over the plywood. 

“C’mon, I know another way in,” Steve motioned to the small alley nearby. He was ready to kick the door down in the back, but one slight push opened the door. A plume of dust revealed a barely lit old decrepit bar. Most of what was left with the large room was just floor and the bar itself with the only remnants of chairs being bolts that were still left in the floor.

The tent that went over the bar like some awning in a suburban home was holding together by threads, and covered in maybe an inch of dust.

“Well, this is the first stop,” Steve muttered.

“Looks like it hasn’t been touch in twenty years,” Natasha stated. “Did the owner forget about it?”

“The owner died, actually…years ago, not recently. It’s kind of just been sitting here, forgotten by the city to tear it down,” Steve walked to the back of the bar where the stage was still in tact. He smiled as he looked across the dimly lit room, telling a few stories as he inspected each area.

“Any other places ypu want us to see? This place is great, but I’m just worried the roof is going to cave in on us,” Natasha asked.

“How about my old apartment? It’s not too far from here,”

“They still have your old home set up?” Thor asked.

Steve nodded. They all left, but before Steve could close the door he scanned the bar once more. In his mind, he heard the soft plucks of the bass and the hum of the singer from back in the day.

☆

_Steve opened the door to the crowded bar. He scanned the room as he pulled his jacket straight to remove any of the wrinkles, and smoothed his hair out so it flattened down._ _The bass was plucked softly, and the woman in the bright red lipstick and blue dress caressed the microphone as she sang. The bar was packed with people, women dressed up - some showing off their furs - and the men in their sharpest suits._

_Steve managed to find a seat on the side of the bar facing the tallest shelf of alcohol._

_“One whiskey sour, please,” Steve asked the bartender, “Oh and start a tab, thanks.” The drink was placed in front of him and he started to sip. He was half-way done before someone started to talk to him._

_“Hey there,” said the woman sitting next to him.  
_

_“Hi,” Steve swiveled his chair. “How…are you?”  
_

_“I’m good,” she chuckled. “Thanks, for asking. How ‘bout yourself?”  
_

_“Good, I like this atmosphere. It’s quiet, not like the other bars.”  
_

_“And how are the other bars different than this one?”  
_

_“They don’t have live music…their drinks are shit too,” Steve took a sip. “What brings you here?”  
_

_“Nothin’ like having a nice conversation,” the woman in the grey fur coat smiled. Steve was thankful for the dimmer lights - he was sure that if they were any brighter that they would show his blush across his face. “Who’s your favorite_ _composer?”_

_“Jazz?”  
_

_“In anything.”  
_

_“Mary Lou Williams,” Steve stated.  
_

_“Who is she?”  
_

_“A composer- she had a recording here years ago. She’s on with Brunswick Records now doing more Blues work but it’s really somethin’ else…” Steve’s voice drifted off, and took a sip to fill the void of silence between the two. “Yours?”_

_As she started to speak, a random guy leaned in between them, facing towards the woman. Her face automatically showed discomfort._

_“Hey, twit, I was talkin’ to her,” Steve said. The man turned around, who was taller, and much larger than Steve._

_“I over-heard your conversation, and it sounded more like a lecture than a conversation. I bet she was bored out of her friggin’ mind. It’s over, so you can go back listening to Misty Mae Whatever,” the man in front of him turned back to the woman._

_“She clearly does not want to talk to you. Go away,” Steve couldn’t stop himself - especially since he was very in the woman’s personal space.  
_

_“Why don’t you fucking go away,” the other man was now in his space.  
_

_“No. Get the hell out.”_

_“This ain’t your fuckin’ bar,” the larger man grabbed Steve by his shirt and practically lifted Steve out of his seat.  
_

_“Hey! Whoa, the party has already started?! Without_ me _?” Bucky clapped the other man on the back, as he saw the woman walk away. “Joe, how are ya! It’s been a few years since we seen each other,”_

_“I’m not Joe,” the man let go of Steve’s shirt.  
_

_“You’re not Joe?! Could’ve sworn. He was also an asshole, so that’s where I probably made the mixup,” Bucky smiled right before being punched in the face. The man took off running before anyone could be kicked out. Silence overtook the bar. “I’m good, everyone…just resume like you just didn’t see a guy get punched  hard in the face.”_

_Bucky groaned as the music started up, and pressed a wet napkin to his bleeding lip. “Thanks for coming to the rescue…or even showing up this time,” Steve mentioned, “but let’s go before things escalate again,” Steve paid for his drink and walked into the crowd._

_“As far as I know I was right on time. Plus you got beat up last week, it’s my turn,” Bucky tried to diffuse the tension._ _Steve pushed through opening up the door to the back alley, a little more forceful than he thought._ _“Fuck, Steve why are you mad at me?”_

_Steve kept walking down the alley. “I’m not mad at you,” he shoved his hands in his pockets. “I’m mad at that asshole who wouldn’t leave that woman alone when she was clearly uncomfortable. I’m mad I couldn’t help her,”_

_“Good thing I showed up then! Sometimes you need help,”_

_“Well, sometimes I don’t! I was handling the situation fine.”_

_“Fine?! Steve you almost got punched in the face, again, in a bar, again. Don’t the nurses at the accidental services at the hospital know you too well?”_

_“Thanks for being my brawling wingman then. Great to know if a friend shows up late_ he’ll _get punched in the face first,” Steve said as he turned onto the street._

_“I was an hour late! The boss made me stay later at the shop to fix one more car,”  
_

_“There is literally lipstick all over your collar you liar - whenever we walk under a light it’s clearly visible . You don’t have to be a detective to figure that out,” Steve rolled his eyes as he stopped in his tracks and dropped his head. He let out a sigh and composed himself. “Thanks Buck, I guess for helping me out. The bruise on my torso hasn’t healed from last week so I would be a mess if I got beat up again,”  
_

_“No problem, Steve,” They kept walking down the street. “Onto the next bar for tonight. What do you think - somewhere you can get beat up for say something political or somewhere you can get beat up for defending an innocent person,”  
_

_Steve laughed, “How about the latter. I don’t really feel like talkin’ politics tonight.”_

☆

They arrived at the NYC Tenement Museum in Brooklyn, after a drive across the city. No traffic, no screaming at other drivers for not using their blinkers when they merged.

“Didn’t you used to live in this area when you first woke up, too?” Natasha asked.

“I lived down the block. They thought that maybe if I lived in a semi-normal place, the culture shock that I experienced when I ran out of the testing facility wouldn’t worsen,” Steve walked to the door, only to find that it was locked. He immediately looked around the corner. “Here it is.”The door was layered in old paint, a little shocked that it still stood after almost a hundred years.

“Thank God for preserving history,” Steve muttered as he walked into the room. Some of the furniture was new, some original, but it all still felt like his apartment when he lived there with Bucky those years ago.  

“ _Bishop to Rook 7,” Bucky slid the piece into place, “Check,”_

_“Knight to Bishop 3,”_

_“Pawn to Space 4″_

_Steve paused, “Knight to Pawn 4…and Checkmate,”_

_“Christ, Steve that’s the third game you beat me at, today,”_

_“That’s what happens when all you do is play chess when you’re sick,”_

_Bucky chuckled, then idly looked at his watch. “Shit, I gotta go to work. Do you want me to bring back dinner?”_

_“Don’t you have some gals to swoon over than come back to my boring place?”_

_“Not tonight, there’s rumors that Clark Gable is eating dinner at the focacceria on Union Street tonight so they’re all gonna be swooning over him,” Bucky stood up to put his jacket on. “Plus, I don’t have that much energy anyway,” Bucky smiled as he put his arms through the arm holes and fixed it so the jacket would close properly._

“Steve?” Natashas voice brought him back to reality.

“Huh? Oh, did you say something?” 

“Yeah, actually. Are you ok? You were kind of staring off into space,”

“Oh, I was just…remembering something,”

“This place feels strange,” Thor blurted out. “Somebody was here before us,”

“Please don’t go into your childhood stories again,” Natasha pleaded.

“No, not this time,” Thor walked into the bedroom, “He was standing here, maybe an hour ago, but it doesn’t feel as though it was  _here_ exactly,” 

“You can feel that too?” Steve questioned.

“Why can you feel it, and not me?” Nastasha questioned. 

“I think it has to do with the stones,” 

☆

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mary Lou Williams was a real artist starting back in the 1920s. She was a jazz pianist and composer and worked with a lot of other famous artists like Dizzy Gillespie. She was really awesome!


	7. lock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they figure out a way to connect with the other side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all rights belong to marvel.

 

☆

They all drove back from the city quieter than when they left in the mid morning. Natasha willingly chose the backseat, so Steve took the wheel to drive. It allowed him to focus and not let his mind drift elsewhere.

☆

Thor, Natasha, Rhody, and Steve were all in the conference room sitting quietly.

“So, what does all of this have a connection to the Tessaract?” Rhody asked. 

“It is one of the stones in Thanos’ gauntlet, and I brought it back with Loki and me to Asgard for safe keeping,” Thor shifted in his seat. “I’m guessing when traveling back after the Battle of New York, my DNA and some of the cube’s energy might have bonded together.”

“Didn’t the explorers who found the plane find a square shaped hole in the floor?” Steve piped up. “I was exposed to the Tessaract as well, briefly at least.”

“Could be the reason why you don’t feel the shift as much,” Thor explained. “Plus, I’m not  _technically_  human.”

“Speaking of energy shifts,” Rhody leaned forward in his chair, “This place has changed since we’ve been back. Not like phsysically - this is still one of the most ostentatious training grounds -  but like the feeling is different. I swear I hear laughing if it’s super quiet. It comes out from nowhere,”

“Like a ghost,”

★

“We have to go back,” Bucky came in through the front door, saw Peter and ran up to him. 

“You okay?” Peter asked quietly.

“No,” Bucky’s breathing increased. “Is there a way, any way, to get back?”

“Not that I know of,” Peter answered, and Bucky’s whole body sunk. “But, T’Challa and I have been talking.”

★

They all gathered in the lab around the large table and opened computer.

“Is this computer just going to magically transport us all back to the original world?” Wanda asked sarcastically.

“Not quite,” Peter rolled over to the computer, booting it up.

“One late night, Peter and I had been talking. We might be in one of those pocket dimensions he was talking about but maybe we can still connect,” T’Challa started to explain. “When I was in Wakanda, we had a invisible dome to protect our city. Nothing could come in as it was a extreme protection from those who wanted to hurt us. However, one thing we were able to connect with the outside world was through the WiFi. Since this world is just about a carbon copy as the other one, albeit another dimension, we should be able to connect to the other side,” T’Challa smiled and sat down, happy with his explanation.

“It can’t be that easy. I will not believe that it’s that  _fucking_  easy,” Sam’s body language became closed off.

Peter typed for a few seconds, clicked the computer’s trackpad and waited as the Skype call began. “Here we go.”

☆

They were still in the conference room talking when Natasha noticed something on the screen on the wall. It shifted to a lighter grey color than it’s usual dark black. “Hey, who turned on the screen?”

“Wait, what screen?” Rhody asked as the Skype logo appeared with the text  _accepting call_  materializing underneath.

The video turned on and showed the fallen team, sitting at the table in Tony Stark’s lab.

☆ 

 


	8. key

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they see each other once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all rights belong to marvel.

★

“It’s connected, but…I don’t see anything,” Peter started to click around on the computer. “Everything is fine on our end, we’re connected. Somehow we just can’t see them,” Peter stopped, and positioned himself in front of the computer. 

☆

“ _Hello? Is anybody there?”_

_“_ A webcam,  _get a webcam,”_ Rhody said quickly, “There should be one in the room next door.”

Natasha got out of her chair and ran to grab the webcam. The device was placed on a larger shelf and connected to the USB port. 

★

The screen on Peter’s laptop suddenly changed colors from the solid black to a blurred set of various colors, until the connection got stronger. The laptop in front of him showed the surviving team. Natasha Romanoff, James Rhody, Thor, and Steve Rogers himself were all standing up in front of their chairs. He saw Steve drop his hands from his crossed arm position, and heard him say two words.

“ _Holy shit.” Steve looked into the screen. “Wait, who is that?”_

_“_ Sometimes I forget that everyone doesn’t know my face. Sorry, hi, I’m Peter. I fought everyone in the spider suit at the airport,” Peter started to rush the last few words. 

“ _Okay…and…?”_ Rhody’s voice echoed through the speakers.

“Oh, that’s right I was with Mr. Stark - Tony- Mr. Stark,” Peter reminded himself before moving his seat over to have the camera encompass the rest of the team. “This might be a better way of explaining things.”

★

Steve walked up to the video that was being displayed. “This can’t be real. I refuse to believe this is real.”

The five of them were crowded around the table looking into the barrel of the camera. Bucky looked…good, not great, but not horrible either. It was stress. Steve always knew when the stress was high - Bucky’s cheekbones would raise a little higher, and his beard grew just a smidge longer. 

T’Challa looked happy, as well as Sam (albeit a little shocked) and Wanda. 

☆

“This can’t be real,” Steve muttered. He saw him crumble in the woods of Wakanda. He heard Bucky’s voice fade away into the winds. It felt like Steve was the only one with doubts. Natasha and Rhody started the conversation, asking as many questions as she could, talking with Bucky and Wanda first, then eventually moving over to Sam, T’Challa, and Peter. 

The room became quiet, with Steve not realizing it was his turn to give his hellos. “So, I think the only question I can ask is how do we get everyone back?”

★

The conversations that went back and forth became dry, and everyone decided to part ways back to their respective rooms. Everyone planned their meetings on how to get back. In theory, it was possible. Peter made sure that they believed that. 

In reality, they knew it wasn’t going to be another quick snap of the fingers.

Bucky stayed behind, and waited for everyone else to leave and sitting there patiently was Steve.

“Hi,” Bucky said with a smile in his voice.

★

“It’s been what,  _months_ , and the first thing you say is  _hi?!”_ Steve was annoyed. He tried to remind himself that it was the shock, that it was the amount of people in the room, that it  _was_ the first time that they had seen each other in months. “I saw you  _die_  right in front of my eyes, and the first thing you say is  _hi._ Jesus  _christ.”_

_“What do you want me to do?!”_ Bucky put his hands up in defense, “ _Do you want me to crawl through the screen like the girl in The Ring?_   _How do you want me to act?!”_ Bucky got up and pushed his chair in and walked away.

Steve continued to sit at his chair after putting his face in his hands. 

☆

Natasha walked back down the stairs to see Steve still sitting at the table. “Hey, what’s up? Dinner is about to be served.”

“How long have I been down here?” Steve looked up from his crossed arms, only realizing he dozed off sitting in the chair.

“Ah, probably a few hours.”

“Shit.”

“Everything okay?” Natasha asked.

“No, I…got angry at Bucky for something stupid…again,” Steve tried to wake up. There was silence. “He said hi…and I got angry at him for saying hi.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty stupid.You didn’t even give him a chance.”

“Fuck,” Steve groaned.

“That’s the right answer I think.”

☆

Thor was drinking his tea, idly writing on a piece of paper. “Do you think our friends in the other world are just watching a piece of paper get magically drawn on?”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha laughed. Steve was overhearing the conversation in the room over. He hadn’t talked to Bucky in a week. He wasn’t counting, not at all.

“The Spider-kid said that their world is something like a carbon copy. Wouldn’t things that were copied from this world, be mirrored in the other? Thus me drawing on this paper, would magically appear in the other drawn on.”

“Who knows Thor, we can only hope,” Natasha stated. Steve’s mind immediately clicked.  _The notebooks._  

☆

The notebooks were dusty but even after a few years of them not being used they still were in good condition. Steve opened to a blank page.

_Dear Bucky,_

Steve sighed, as he took a chance.

_I know you read this notebook. which means you read my letters to you. I’m sorry I was a dick. It had been so long since I’ve seen you and couldn’t articulate anything correctly._

_So, hi._

_I’ve missed you since you fell off the train. I’ve missed you since I drove my plane into the water. I’ve missed you since I woke up in New York. I’ve missed you since I saw you again in DC and I have sure as hell missed you since you died in Wakanda._

_I love you so much._

_We need to find a way for you…all of you to get back to the real world.  
_

_I’m sorry again and I miss you just so God damn much._

Steve put his pen down. He felt embarrassed - his anger in the heat of the moment got to the best of him once again. Steve honestly questioned the thought if Bucky ever wanted to see him again.

 ☆


	9. departure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they find out how much longer they have in the pocket dimention.

★

Peter and T’Challa made an announcement that they were going to finally find a probable explanation on how they were going to get back to the real Earth. They had been so close before but with all people that they had talked to, especially with T’Challa’s power of being king, they just could not come up with a formidable and agreed upon answer. 

It had been almost sixteen hours - they talked to maybe 30 of the best scientists and the both of them finally opened up the door when they understood an answer that would be most explainable and reasonable.

Sam crossed his arms and leaned on the wall. “So…anything?” 

“Yes, and no,” T’Challa offered. “They physicists speculate that the pocket universe we are staying in is deteriorating…that this world is breaking down back into the original one,” T’challa sighed. 

“I hear a rebuttal,” Wanda filled the silence.

“But, even though the physicists say that it is ending…they also say that we don’t know how long.” Peter offered the rest of the explanation. 

“It could be days, months…or years even. We just don’t know.”

★

It had been months since Bucky’s last contact with Steve. He didn’t want to contact him, yet every night at 6pm  Bucky would go downstairs, turn on Peter’s computer and open up the program just in case Steve would want to talk to him, yet there was no avail.

The five of them continued through their normal routines. It was a long and arduous wait, especially when there was no control when or how they would return. 

Bucky laid back on the couch and flipped on the television to the local news station.

“- _and we’re going to head back? What is your reasoning? Whomever or whatever trapped us in this place would surely have a plan. They didn’t do it for no reason…and how would that feel to the future population when and if they go back to Earth? They would understand any of the pain or anguish we used to feel. This place is a haven. We should not make any efforts to go back, but make efforts to build this place up,”_ the man said on the television. He was the same professor from the first debate he tried to watch when he first arrived, in his depressive slump. Bucky turned off the TV, and stared into the black screen. He needed to go out and hike.

★

The cliff’s view didn’t change. There were no new skyscrapers, no fancy new technology. Just trees, blue skies and birds chirping into the open air. What felt like a lifetime on his shoulders finally just melted away. In however many years Bucky had been alive, he finally just relaxed. 

★

The car ride back was smooth with no traffic. Bucky pulled into the Avenger’s compound, where he found most of the team gathered in their usual meeting spot.

“Where’s Wanda?” Bucky asked. “She’s usually the first one here for our team gatherings.”

“She’s gone,” Sam replied.

“Gone? Did she run away?”

“No…like  _gone_  gone,” Peter stressed his words carefully. “It’s beginning.”

★

Like clockwork, Bucky headed down into the lab and sat in front of the computer and tried to open up the program, however an error message kept appearing.

“No,” Bucky started to breathe heavier. “ _No,”_ Bucky said more forcefully. “I need to talk to Steve.  _Do not deny me of this! Steve is all I have!”_ Bucky started screaming in Russian half-way through. His mind started to flash back to before.

Before everything. 

Cold metal tables.

Restraints around his wrists.

Shocks.

Bucky punched the second nearest computer, and was held back by strong arms. They guided his squirming body to the floor restrain him even more so he didn’t break anything more, but more importantly hurt himself.

“Bucky, breathe. Remember where you are. Tell me three things you feel,” Sam tried to cool down Bucky.

“ _Get off of me!”_  Bucky yelled.

“Not until you cool down!” Sam yelled back. “Three things you feel.”

“Restraints,”  _one “_ The cold floor,”  _two._ Bucky’s breathing started to level. “My t-shirt.”  _Three._

_“_ Good. Now, two things you see.”

“Dust,”  _one “_ Spider eggs,”  _two._

_“_ Gross but ok, good,” Sam motioned to T’Challa to loosen his grip slightly, as Sam did the same. “…and one thing that you taste.”

“Blood…I think I bit my tounge,”  _one._ Bucky was calmer. 

“Now, tell me what happened.”

“The computer doesn’t work anymore.” Sam and T’Challa stayed quiet, letting the information process. “The computer doesn’t work anymore,” Bucky repeated, as his breathing picked up, not from anger, however from sadness. He couldn’t see Steve, and he hadn’t seen Steve for a while. 

He wanted to be back with Steve.

★

Days had passed. News sites started to pick up on the fact that people were disappearing from this world. Panic swept over again and the media began to sensationalize every bit of it. 

Bucky turned off the news for good. He was done with the debates, done with trying to feel as though he was in something other than a glorified simulation. He was done trying to constantly remind himself that he would get back to the real Earth.

T’Challa was the next to leave, then Sam, and lastly Peter. 

Bucky was incredibly alone. 

Again.

★

Bucky lay awake in his bed. The mattress started to dent where he slept most often. He turned over and reached for Steve’s notebooks. They were worn, and even more crumpled since Bucky arrived. He wanted to read the last entry, but when Bucky turned the last page, the he was faced with something that he had not seen when he turned to the last entry all those times before.

“How…” was all that Bucky could muster before furiously reading the last letter. 

It broke him. 

Bucky set the notebook back in it’s original spot. Steve found a way to communicate and apologize while also giving him space. Bucky hated him and loved him at the same time.

Bucky eventually fell asleep in the bed he eventually called his own. It was the last night he spent there, as for when Bucky woke up, everything was different.

★

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you to my betas for helping me with this chapter.
> 
> Only one more chapter to go.
> 
> Constructive criticism always welcome.


	10. home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky arrives back on Earth.

★

Bucky woke up, breathing in air like he had been just resurrected, and sitting up like he was electrocuted. He was not in Russia, and not even close. He heard the cars honking, and the people talking outside of the window.  _English_.  _American accent with a slight of Dutch._  He was in New York. The room he was stationed in was his old city hideout from the eighties. Still after all these years in and out of Hydra he managed to keep the key. 

Bucky wasn’t on a mission…not with Hydra, not even close. 

Memories came flooding back. 

Wakanda.

Shuri.

T’Challa.

Thanos.

_Steve._

He didn’t recognize the apartment at first because hadn’t been here in thirty-some-odd years. He didn’t recognize the apartment because the last time he was on Earth, Bucky was being ripped limb by limb by Thanos’ snap.

Bucky was back.

He was home.

★

He had to catch a taxi to the Avengers facility in Westchester as he could only go as far as the train station without a car, from New York City. He paid his fare, and got out right before the gates. He could use the walk. Bucky didn’t think Stark’s guards would that he was approaching the gates, so he found an alternate route to the facility.

He felt the breeze as it brushed against his face. It was real. Bucky opened his eyes to the window. Celebrations were happening - the rest of his teammates that were stuck in the pocket dimension had Solo cups filled with alcohol, smiles and content across everyone’s faces, including Steve’s.

The smile that was everything to Bucky. 

He was so close, but even through a single pane of glass he felt so far away. 

Bucky kept walking until he reached the front door.

☆

Steve leaned back in his chair. Almost everyone was back. Sam, T’Challa, Wanda, and even the small kid from Queens was back. They were  _home,_  in some cases at least back on the real Earth. Nothing was back to normal. They still had to find Thanos, find Stark, and the others that escaped from their hands, but another day’s rest would hurt. 

However, nothing was back to normal for Steve, because Bucky still wasn’t back home.

Bucky was his normality.

Something caught the corner of Steve’s eye walking past the window. “Do we have guards patrolling the compound today?” Steve asked, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

Natasha turned around to face Steve. “No, I didn’t receive any alerts. Everything okay?”

Steve was about to brush the feeling off. He was about to just turn to turn back around and let the day go on, but something kept him from doing so. “I don’t think so, actually. I need to go check the front.” 

“Do you need me to be on high alert?”

“No.”

★

The doors to the Avengers facility was as egregious as Tony Stark. Large cascading windows hit the floor to ceiling, making it a paparazzi haven in order to catch Tony right before he made his speeches with the press. Surprisingly the door to the lobby was open. Bucky was able to walk in without issue. It made sense to Bucky - with the guards at the end of the street, and the party going on in the kitchen, the Avengers weren’t on high alert, especially if they figured that no one is coming back. 

He walked around the lobby area with little want to head into the main kitchen. He was nervous. He hadn’t seen Steve, or at least the rest of the Avengers team in what felt like eons. So, Bucky waited - a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

☆

Steve walked through the maze that was the Avengers facility.

“Tony, why did you have to make this building so God damn big,” Steve muttered as he turned yet another corner. He finally came to the double doors and pushed on through. The lobby was empty. Nothing had changed. He saw someone pass by, or at least he  _thought_  he saw someone or something.

But in a mere matter of seconds, although everything was still in disarray,Tony was missing, and Thanos was still alive, one person - Steve’s constant in his life - appeared from the dark hallway on the opposite side. 

James Buchanan Barnes was home.

★

He couldn’t say anything - almost like he was stunned into silence. Steve Rogers was standing right in front of him - it had felt like decades once more since they had seen each other. 

“Did you…did you get my letter?” Steve rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh, yeah…last night, actually. Took me a while, huh?” Bucky chuckled.

“Just a little bit.”

“I…I waited at the computer. Every night since I messed u-”

“You did not mess up, Bucky. I am the wrong in that situation. I was…so shocked that you were alive. I had this  _stupid_  idea that we were going to have this honestly out of character reunion and I just couldn’t face the idea of how  _stupid it re-”_  Steve kept monologuing until Bucky walked up to Steve and put his hand on his cheek. Steve quieted down. Bucky leaned in and paused before locking eyes with the only person in the world that he truly ever loved.

Bucky kissed Steve lightly and pulled back, pausing until Steve laid his hand on Bucky’s waist and pulled him in until they were closer together. Steve kissed Bucky, with slightly more intensity, finally understanding the small hole that was missing from their souls. 

Each other.

★

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> With that, this story is complete! Thank you for the kudos, bookmarks, and subscriptions, as it truly made my day.
> 
> Thank you to funvee and TinyOtter for beta-ing this fic, as well! 
> 
> Constructive criticism is always welcomed.

**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism welcome. Thank you to my betas for the help with this story!
> 
> Looking to continue this story, little here, little there.


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